Don't Get Carried Away
by rhombus
Summary: Nick/Kyle/Oliver. It's a week before the Big Gay Wedding. Things go differently than expected. AU/non-canon.


**Don't Get Carried Away**

Nick's studio apartment was nicer than Kyle's, and much less noisy. He had a better music selection, too. It helped Kyle concentrate. Those were good enough reasons why Kyle had spent pretty much all of September there during the days, awaiting word from the dean about his re-admittance, while Nick occupied his mornings at the high school. It's not like Kyle had been actively avoiding Angel Square, or any of its frequent visitors. Rodi's, too, had dropped off his radar for some unknown reason. And Nick's tía Celia always kept his fridge full of food that easily rivaled Carlotta Vega's, so there was nothing tempting him out of the apartment while he studied, and studied, and studied some more.

There really was no other reason for his self-imposed containment. Really.

And now that October had swept through Llanview, painting the trees in magnificent shades of red and orange, now that he and Nick were actually solid, it wasn't so extraordinary for him to be here, by himself. Nick had never seemed to mind, and didn't think it clingy and weird, even in the early days of their burgeoning relationship. In fact, he'd seemed to almost encourage it at times. Nick was just a cool, laid back guy. Who liked Kyle a lot. Liked being with him, being seen with him, liked introducing him to his friends, in and out of the LGLA. Who had encouraged him to do better, to _be_ better, who had believed with all of his heart that he could be better, that he wasn't a lowlife criminal. At a time when Kyle had been at his lowest, that kind of support was... it was nice.

Kyle had been almost suspicious at first. What kind of a smoking hot hottie wanted to be your boyfriend even after being filled in on all your sins? Usually the rotten kind. But Nick was good. Almost too good. His past was apparently as unmarred as his skin. How on earth Kyle had ended up with such a sweet guy was beyond him.

He shook his head as he pored over his notes on the pathophysiology of the skin for the sixth time. Being here was supposed to help him concentrate, not distract him with rambling thoughts about the merits of dating nice men who were nice to him and never pretended things weren't real or special when they both knew better. And then changed their tune with hardly a second's notice just to confuse him and get him to dump perfectly nice boyfriends and go back to the secrecy and the hiding and the shame. And almost tempted him to do it anyway until his better sense prevailed over his naively romantic heart.

_"I'm sorry. About a lot of things. Mostly losing you."_

Kyle dug his knuckles into his forehead, trying to push back errant, unwelcome thoughts.

He'd lost his concentration again. Maybe it was time to put the notes away and pop in a movie or something. Just as he shoved his notes into his bag, the lock snicked open and the door swung in to reveal the smoking hot hottie himself, bedecked in one of his trademark sweater vests, looking as dapper as ever.

Not really knowing why, Kyle retrieved his notes from his bag and placed them back on the desk. Ichthyosis congenita suddenly had his full attention again.

Nick pulled off his jacket and hung it on the inside of the door. He walked over to Kyle at the desk, leaned down to drop a gentle kiss on his temple, then ruffled Kyle's hair affectionately.

"Hi there, gorgeous."

Kyle grinned. "Hey."

"I just love opening my door and seeing you there."

"Cool." Kyle furrowed his brow at his own response. That was... a weird thing to say. Nick didn't seem to notice though. He was already off to the other side of the small apartment, pulling something noisy out of his closet.

"Don't look, okay?" Nick said. "I've got a surprise for you."

Kyle shrugged absently and kept his eyes glued to his notes. "Sure."

His ears registered undressing and redressing noises while his mind was otherwise occupied with horrible skin diseases.

Nick cleared his throat, purposefully and loud, as if it were the second or third time he'd had to do it. Kyle turned his head and unconsciously smacked his lips, which may or may not have been responsible for the smug grin playing at the corners of Nick's mouth.

"So," Nick said, opening his arms in order to present himself, adorned in a freshly pressed black tuxedo. "What do you think?"

Kyle's eyes widened—comically so, he feared. The man in front of him was _damn_ handsome. There was no denying that. He looked like the love child of James Bond and Laurence Olivier.

"Wow," he managed to spit out. "That's quite... that's quite the outfit." He swallowed, and it seemed to get the wheels in his head to turning again. "We going someplace extra fancy tonight? Or did you get a second job as a maître d'?"

Nick adjusted his bow tie, smiling. "It's for the demonstration next week. I thought I could be a part of Amelia's wedding party."

"Best man?"

"Something like that. I mean, what kind of a community leader would I be if I didn't play _some_ part in my own protest, right?"

"True." Kyle shuffled his notes. They were completely out of order, but he'd stopped paying attention to them anyway. He sucked in his lower lip as he thought about Nick and the mass gay weddings. "You think you should do more, though, right? You should be up there getting married, too."

"Yeah, I know. I also know I could get someone to stand up there with me, but I'm not going to."

"Why not?"

"Even though this is all for show, it still means something to most of the people participating."

"So...?" Kyle tapped the end of his pencil against the the desk.

"So I'm not going to symbolically marry someone else while I'm seeing you."

Kyle opened his mouth. Then closed it again. "Oh," he finally said, taken aback by Nick's forthright honesty. Another positive tick in Nick's column. Not that there was more than one column. Not that Nick was competing with anyone. Nick was such a great guy, Kyle felt almost... undeserving. He had his own issues with honesty and forthrightness.

He closed his eyes. Being with Nick was like wading into a gentle stream. He never felt the risk of being carried away by the flood. It was safe and pleasant, steady and easy to navigate. He could... picture a life with Nick. A nice, quiet life, free of all the drama that had plagued him in the past. Free of the tears and the explosions and falling so hard he'd never think he could pull himself up again. Drowning in waters so deep, so wild, eddying with dizzy, reckless abandon—those were the thrills of a younger man.

He was supposed to be more responsible now. Giving in to his baser desires—well, the only thing that had gotten him lately was arrested. So, he would do the mature thing. The selfless, loyal thing. He could show Nick how grateful he was for being such a... gentle stream.

"Well then, why not me?" he finally said, breathing out.

"Hmm?" Nick looked up from his sleeve; he had apparently been occupying himself with picking off invisible buds of lint.

"Why not symbolically marry me?"

Nick laughed, his eyebrows pinching together. "It's a little soon, don't you think?"

"I'm serious." Kyle raised himself from his chair and shoved his hands into his pockets. "You're not the only one who believes in the cause, y'know. I wanna show my support, too."

Support for equal rights, support for his nice boyfriend, support for his new outlook on the good and steady life.

Nick crossed his arms over his tuxedoed chest. "You _are_ serious."

"I am."

"Okay."

"Marry me."

"Okay."

"Good."

And maybe, just maybe, throwing himself into this political mine field would help him forget... other things. And have those other things forget him too.

Nick reached out and wrapped his arms around Kyle's neck, pulling him in for a kiss. It was sweet, soft, pleasant, all the things about Nick that he liked.

"I knew there was a reason I loved you," Nick said, breaking the kiss for just a moment before falling back in.

_"I love you, Kyle. And I think you still love me."_

Kyle tilted his head and deepened the kiss, hoping to silence the voice in his head that wouldn't shut up and leave him alone for ten stupid minutes.

So being with Nick didn't set his skin on fire. Big deal. As far as he was concerned, that wasn't such a bad thing. Because where would that get him anyway? Skinless, and in pain. And when his skin grew back riddled with scar tissue, how could he know it wouldn't ignite again, reducing him to sad, pathetic ashes? It—_he_—was like his own personal pathophysiology of the skin.

No, he'd take the good times as he could get them, forget about the past, and just think about the future.

He smiled into Nick's kiss, enjoying the warming sensation of being wanted and appreciated. Suddenly Nick pulled back, a quizzical look on his face.

"Do you even _own_ a suit?"

"Shut up."

"Okay."

Nick's lips resumed their comfortable efforts while his hands tugged Kyle's shirt. They walked slowly toward the bed, wrapped in their tempered clinch.

Kyle commended himself on his good judgment. He was turning the page, getting his life back on track. And who knew? This whole wedding extravaganza—it was probably going to be great. The wildest party Llanview would see in quite some time. He'd show his support, be a good boyfriend, and have some fun along the way.

What could possibly go wrong?


End file.
